


11 Times More Intensive

by Anonymous



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Bottom Peter Parker, F/M, Fluff and Smut, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Michelle finds it hot, Non-Penetrative Sex, Peter's Sense are dialed to eleven, Safewords, This sunshine child is sensitive, Top Michelle Jones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-18 23:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20321044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Peter squirms underneath her. All half open eyes and flushing to the tips of his ears. Noises fall from his lips in gasps and moans and it takes all her willpower to keep her pace from going too fast. She doesn’t want to overwhelm him more than he already is. With his senses dialed up to eleven she can only imagine what her touch does to him.Lesser men wouldn’t be willing to submit to her, to let her be on top without question, because most men are stereotypical pieces of shit. But Peter hasn’t done more than offer her a shy smile, stammering in his dorky way while expressing concern over her own pleasure in the act of her asking for permission to please him.So, MJ doesn’t want to fuck this up.





	11 Times More Intensive

It started slow. Easy and a bit awkward. They’re just teenagers after all. But it was fine. With just the two of them together awkwardness isn’t the least bit humiliating. It’s another thing to overcome but they don’t have to face that demon alone. It’s one of the few things MJ has the chance to face with Peter together and she will be damned if it stopped her.

Because after another week of trying to get to the bottom of Peter’s touching problem, she finally found the source. While getting pleasured isn’t bad—how could it be bad if it’s _Peter_ _Parker_ doing his best to please her? —she’s always been a woman who isn’t afraid to get what she wants. She rather likes to be in charge than to let others do all the work. Peter’s doing enough work all the time.

Also, she _wants_ this. If he isn’t on board with this, she’ll respect that. But until he says the word “Red” she’ll try her hardest to return the favor he’s done her since things started to turn more sexual between them.

_"Just lie back and let me take care of business."_

_“Tonight, is all about you.”_

Peter in all his adorable self agreed to her plan. He let her push him back after she took the juice boxes he offered and put them on the nightstand. With May gone for another two days there will be no embarrassing interruptions. Peter assures her he’s ready when she asks him to take of his pants and shirt, getting out of her skirt and Led Zeppelin shirt herself. All nervous energy and hesitant touches.

_“Relax. If you want to stop, we’ll stop.”_

He knows what he has to say. Still, not trusting Peter to be truthful and not wanting to scare him off she starts slow. She starts with kissing him, slow and deep, relaxing him with reassuring squeezes across his skin. When she feels his hand come up to rest on her waist she starts to rub at his chest. Mouth leaving his lips, she trails wet kisses down his throat only pausing to suck and bite at his neck. She knows any marks she leaves won’t be there tomorrow but it’s the gesture and the thought that counts. His breathing starts to become unsteady and she marvels a second at how quick his body starts to react.

“This is nice.” She says as she pushes her knee between his legs against the hardness coming to life. Peter squeaks and she rakes her nails soothingly up and down his sides. It gets her a shiver and a stifled noise that gets her heartbeat to quicken.

“Yeah! Sure, this at least doesn’t feel bad or anything…not that you could ever make me feel bad! Because you could never make me feel anything less than good and—”

“I get it, dork.” She sucks at his ear lobe before blowing into the shell of his ear. She grins at the flinch his body makes and shifts her knee. His breath hitches. “You’re lucky to have me. I know.”

“Yeah…I really am.” He says it with enough sincerity to make her blush nearly match his own. She presses a quick kiss to his cheek and rubs her knee against his crotch.

As far as responses go, he’s sensitive. No wonder her touches towards his crouch left him flinching so hard she’d been afraid of something more serve being the reason to his startled look of shock. She gets it now. Kind of wishes she’s known sooner because this is fun. Watching him, touching him, she doubts she’ll get tired of this in her lifetime. This feels right in a way rarely anything has. Awkwardness meeting a quick death, she uses her hand like she would with a paintbrush. Soft lines and strokes across paper.

Even though the skin beneath her isn’t easy to breakage there’s a trust in this intimacy she’s not willing to betray. If she has to be gentle and tender and all the emotions, she normally cringes at then she’s going to be just that. She doesn’t even mind coming across as soft. Not for this. Never for this—for **_him_**.

MJ pulls her leg away, letting herself straddle Peter’s legs. Her hand wanders down to his boxers and she pulls at the hem. At the hesitant nod she gets she slips her hand inside and cups him and gives his cock a soft stroke of her palm.

Another loud noise forces itself through those lips she knows are as soft as they appear to be, and she stifles a snort of amusement as she rakes her eyes over his body. From those abs which never fail to make her feel hot with want to his handsome face.

Peter squirms underneath her. All half open eyes and flushing to the tips of his ears. Noises fall from his lips in gasps and moans and it takes all her willpower to keep her pace from going too fast. She doesn’t want to overwhelm him more than he already is. With his senses dialed up to eleven she can only imagine what her touch does to him.

Lesser men wouldn’t be willing to submit to her, to let her be on top without question, because most men are stereotypical pieces of shit. But Peter hasn’t done more than offer her a shy smile, stammering in his dorky way while expressing concern over her own pleasure in the act of her asking for permission to please him.

So, MJ doesn’t want to fuck this up.

“What’s your color?” She says while brushing his curls away from his sweaty forehead with her free hand.

“Gre…Green—” Peter starts to say without missing a beat but at her stare he reconsiders. “Yellow…”

His voice is near breaking point. Breathy and quiet as he stumbles over his words between his whimpers.

“Thanks,” MJ presses a quick kiss to his forehead as her strokes become a bit quicker. Peter shudders with a strangled gasp, hands tightening on her waist at once. She reminds herself patience is the key here, no matter how good his hands feel on her skin. The hand in his hair slides down to massage his abs.

“You’re doing great. So good. Let me take care of you. You’re so pretty like this.”

Another thing she loves about him. He doesn’t protest at genuine compliments most boys consider too girly. She can call him whatever she likes without it becoming offensive. Cute. Pretty. Dork. Loser.

_Mine, _MJ thinks as she drinks in the sight, not feeling the slightest bit embarrassed in this setting because it’s the truth. He’s as much hers as she’s his. Maybe once the thrill of pleasure fades, she might shake her head at her own thoughts but now she’s got her hands full.

“You…you’re pretty, uhm, real pretty too!”

Peter says as he leans up to press his lips against hers. She feels him shaking underneath her as they brush their lips together. Once. Twice. A third time. The hand which has been massaging his stomach trails up his chest. Rubbing over his right nipple before it slides up to the nape of his neck to tug at his locks.

She swallows the sharp gasp of surprise and coaxes his mouth wider open with her tongue. MJ softens her grip on his cock while pressing herself into his chest. She maps out the inner workings of his mouth with her tongue, fast and throughout to make a contrast to her feather light touches on his balls.

Peter kisses her back, soft and tender. The opposite to her fierce passion. He yields into the palms of her hands and MJ can’t describe the thrill shooting up her spine, warming her blood as he does despite the many books she’s read.

Biting down on his bottom lip, relishing in the groan tearing itself out of Peter’s throat, she pulls back to let him breath. His chest heaves as if he’s run a marathon. Flush spreading down to his neck as he pulls his hands away from her lower back to cup her face. His thumbs are trembling as he caresses her cheeks before tugging a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

MJ’s heart skips two beats, pounding against her rib cage with enough force to leave her speechless.

Peter looks at her like she’s the new Lego Star Wars set he’s got last year. Dialed up to eleven. Eyes bright and so full of awe and affection he doesn’t have a problem to show. Unlike her. A smile tugging at the corners of his parted lips as he pants, and she falters for a moment.

He looks like he did in London after kissing her for the first time.

“Hey…” She lets her forehead knock against his own, her hair falling around them like a curtain of wild curls. She can feel the heat on her face as their gazes remain locked together, but she doesn’t care. She can feel the grin on her face, the same one full of the bashful burst of affection she had when Peter called her pretty the first time at the opera. “You okay?”

“Never been better.” Peter says against her lips, sharing her breath with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Good.” MJ presses a kiss at the corner of his mouth, darting in again and again because who needs words if they’ve got better things to do than talking? Peter seems to agree with her from the way he chuckles and pulls her closer.

She doesn’t want this to end. She’s been extra careful to make sure this will last as long as it can. Yet, she’s getting impatient. She wants to see him come undone beneath her like she did a week ago. He deserves this. Maybe he’ll like it enough she can convince him to miss patrol sometimes. To stay and cuddle and to not drive her up the wall with worry of him getting stabbed in the middle of New York.

Cuddles aren’t so bad when they involve crappy Netflix shows, a strong arm around her waist, the other one playing with the end of her curls while she buries her nose into his fluffy mop of hair, spooning him.

“MJ,” Peter whines when her hand speeds up, his mouth falling open as his back aches off the bed. “Mich…Michelle!”

“C’mon, Peter,” The tingling in her lower belly is heating up when Peter’s hands fall away to fist his sheets as he writhes on his bed. She’s afraid he’s going to rip them to sheets and while the thought is hot, she’d rather have those hands on her. “Hands on me or…or I’ll stop. Keep you like this until you’re more of a mess than you already are. Either get your hands on me or I’ll keep mine off you. That seems fair to me.”

“Don’t…don’t—” MJ moans when a pair of hands squeeze her waist, rubbing up and down her sides. Peter’s voice is frantic in her ears, like he believes her empty threat, so he begs. “—don’t stop! Please, MJ…it’s good. Great. The greatest. You’re the…the best. Absolutely amazing.”

She’s never liked to hear people whine. Too annoying and childish in her opinion. Children whined when they didn’t get their way, or spoiled teenagers. None of the things she associates with dignity and adulthood. That didn’t change. She hated whining. It got on her nerves. Except when Peter Parker does it. Figures he’d be the exception in this case. He’s always the exception. Whether it be stereotypes or laws of physics. They just don’t apply to him.

“You’re not so bad yourself. Look at you. All pretty and soft for me.” When his eyes fall shut, she tugs at his hair. They snap open as his lips part in a voiceless gasp of pleasure. Interesting. “So good. You know what your nickname should be? Perfect Peter Parker. Because that’s what you are. Perfect in every way of the word. All you need is to let go—I’ve got you, Peter.”

“MJ…MJ…too much…it’s too much—"

Peter’s head twists from side to side, hair fanning out across the pillow. He’s shaking now. Fuck, those brown puppy eyes she loves are getting teary. Lower lip quivering as he gasps for breath between moans of pleasure like a drowning man. She doesn’t dare tear her eyes away from his face.

“You want me to stop?” A wild shake of the head. “Good, because I won’t stop. We’re so close. You’re doing so great. C’mon, just a bit more. I know you can take it.”

“No…I…I can’t…” A lie and not the color he should use if he wants this to stop, so MJ tightens her grip in his hair and _yanks_ his head back to expose his throat. He chokes a bit, eyes going round and big and she can see them water.

She’s close to the burning blaze which comes with an orgasm herself. The vivid picture in front of her together with the sounds almost enough to push her over the edge, so she leans close to his face as she drags her hand up and down his cock, twisting her fingers over the tip while raking her nails down the sides with a firm grasp and growls.

“You’re _mine_, Peter Benjamin Parker.”

“_Michelle_!“

Peter sobs as he comes with a hoarse moan sounding like it tore itself out straight from his chest. It drowns out her own noise of completion with ease. Eyes glassing over as he jerks underneath her, hips buckling as he spills into her hand. His body goes boneless in seconds. Pliant and hot to touch as he sinks into the bed and his pillow with bright red cheeks. He pants and whimpers when MJ moves her hand up and down a few more times, blinking away the tears rolling down his cheeks.

She pulls her hand out, wiping the fluid sticking to her hand on the boxer’s he’s wearing and moves to take his face into her hands. Cleaning can be done later.

“Peter?”

“Mhm?” He hums, staring at her but not seeing her. For a moment she thinks she’s gone too far but there’s no distress on his face, so she gets off his legs and lays down beside him. MJ spreads her own legs a bit before gently rolling Peter over to lay on her chest. She runs her fingers through his hair, rubbing his back as she tugs his head underneath her chin.

“Thank you. You did so well. You’re okay…”

She continues to cuddle him for another five minutes without getting a reply. Her body is cooling down now, but he’s still flushed in a blush that’s more adorable than it has any right to be. She reaches for the juice boxes they left on the nightstand and presses a kiss onto the top of his head before titling his chin up.

“MJ…?”

“Hey, thought you were lost in that big brain of yours. Think you can drink something for me?”

Peter nods and she’s quick to put in the straw and hold it to his lips. He takes a few sips and warps his arms around her. She puts the juice box away.

“Back with me?”

“That was…intensive.”

“In a good or a bad way?” She has to ask. Peter shifts a bit, clinging onto her like he clings to the ceiling.

“Good. Definitely good. Just a bit…overwhelming, I guess. Sorry I spaced out.”

“Don’t apologize.” MJ lightly pinches one of his pink cheeks before going back to running her fingers through his hair. “It’s fine. As long as we’re both okay, everything’s okay.”

“Yeah.”

For someone so talkative normally, Peter is quiet. Aside from the strange noise she wants to call purring coming from him, he dozes on her chest. It’s cute and she’ll make fun of him later for that, but now she’s content to remain where she is. She does get them both wriggled underneath the blanket. Just in case May decides to come back early from her trip.

“Good night loser.”

Snoring answers her and MJ smiles and pulls Peter closer. For now, when nobody is around, there’s no reason to act like she isn’t smitten with him. Too bad she can’t get a picture right now, this might have been the perfect screensaver photo.

Well, she suppose she can always take one next time.

**Author's Note:**

> Michelle is a Queen, Peter is a soft boy who needs someone to take care of him.   
A match made in heaven and approved in hell.


End file.
